


The Witching Hour

by KrioLynn



Series: The End and Amen [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Campfire Story, Demons, Fairy Tale Style, Kinda creepy but not enough to keep you up at night, Magic, No Dialogue, Non Graphic Death, Non-Graphic Violence, some people die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9339662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrioLynn/pseuds/KrioLynn
Summary: There's a story to these woods if you're curious. It's been...oh a decade or so? Maybe more, but they say a Wizard owned these woods back then. He was a quiet man and it wasn't often He left his home...





	

**Author's Note:**

> It took me s while to spit this out and even longer to post. Enjoy.

It was not very often He left his home. In the tiny community surrounding His small patch of forest, He was considered a frightening, unapproachable entity. The people surrounding Him wanted nothing to do with the young man. 

One brave soul once told Him it was His eyes that threw the people off. It certainly was not His fault they were like that, His eyes were His eyes. Though He did admit that the brilliant blue hue they had was not native to the area. He also had lost one eye in a fight against a particularly stubborn bout of illness as a child. As a result He was left with a sightless, milky eye. 

The people surrounding Him had never seen the likes of it before on one so young. He frightened them, and for such a ridiculous reason. He had far more reasons for people to fear Him than just His eyes. All the same, He rarely left His lands to spare the people His uncomfortable presence. 

Then it happened. What exactly had happened was not discovered until much later, after the mess of charred trees and burnt remains had been cleaned and disposed of as best as they could have been. He (He had no real name to give) had finally come to His breaking point. That much was deemed obvious by the survivors. What had taken so long to find out was exactly what had driven Him to that point. What they discovered was appalling. 

In the dark of the night some youth from the surrounding peoples had begun walking around His lands. That was not unusual; He didn’t care if the people took shortcuts through his land as long as they did not stay. 

These youth were drunk on the adrenaline of doing the forbidden; they were going to attempt to steal from Him. They even managed to succeed. He never locked His doors and He was frequently about at such late hours as well. 

He still would not have been very angry, except for what they stole. It was a beautiful gold circlet set with Lapis Lazuli; He was rarely seen without it. The beautiful artifact was a light weight in the youths’ hands as they raced back to their homes

The farther they went from His home the darker the night seemed to become. They drew tighter together as they searched for the trail to lead them home. They could not find it. It was far too dark to do anything but set camp for the night and wait until morning. The youth, however, didn’t want to risk breaking two of His unwritten rules in one night. 

As they continued walking, a few of them began to wish they had stolen almost anything else. It seemed the circlet, which had caught their eye in His home, began to glitter. It made them panic; there was no light for it to glitter from. They scanned the surrounding trees carefully, looking for anything suspicious before they caught the sight of a flame.   
They were elated before they realized that it was Him.

He was walking toward them slowly, palm extended and a pale flame hovering over it. The youth got even more frightened. No one had known He was a wizard. No one had even begun to suspect that the quiet, slightly frightening young man would be practicing black magic. He had been a practitioner for many years at that point, the circlet the valuable link to the demons on which He drew his power. It was quite valuable both as jewelry (His mother had had it as part of her dowry to His father) and as the conduit it now was for the young wizard. 

He took the circlet from the trembling youth’s hands and placed it on His head. The youth backed away slowly and a mischievous smile graced His face. Ever so slowly He waved His hand and a wall of pale yellow, almost white, flame erupted behind them. He said not a word as he walked to the first youth; it was this one’s idea to commit the theft. He quickly fell victim to the smiling wizard’s flame. 

The second youth backed as close as he could to the wall of flame, hoping to avoid the His wrath. It was not to be, this youth fell just as quick. 

The third youth had given up trying to escape the wizard, accepting the quick death the flame provided. 

The fourth and fifth youths followed in similar terror, their last sights being His smirk and pale flames. 

The final youth, and the only girl, gave Him a small branch of flowers while her lips twitched into a hysterical smile. For a moment He stood shocked, no one had ever offered Him anything before. He gently smiled at her and she sighed in what He assumed was relief. His smile tilted back to a smirk and her outstretched hand quivered. He took the flowers from her hand and affixed them in his hair not unlike a hairclip before giving her the same fate as the others.

The next morning the people had noticed the missing youth. They searched everywhere else available before daring to venture into His lands. Eventually, they had no choice but to look through them. They found the charred bits of tree and bones in a circle not fifty feet from the forest’s edge. 

The furious relatives stormed His land, searching for Him and any answers He could give. They pounded on his doors and he came to them, glaring and in a foul mood. He was tired. 

The people demanded to know whatever He knew of the night before and of the missing youth. He smiled a disarming and charming smile at them all before closing his door on them without a word. The people stood in a shocked silence for a moment before pounding on the door again. 

This time, when the door was opened, the people were greeted with a smirking wizard and a demon composed of the same pale flame that killed the youth. The people backed away in horror and ran screaming. He smirked and waved his hand, the demon following the unspoken order to attack. Only three managed to make it out of His lands alive, and they only barely survived the horrendous burns. 

Now the people fear Him for a new reason. They fear leaving their homes at night or leaving an open flame alone. They don’t dare enter His lands unless it was high noon. People traveling at night who had the misfortune to end stuck in His lands prayed they never met Him. They buried themselves in foliage and hid like small animals from a predator. 

No one wanted to meet the wizard, to see His mismatched eyes burrowing into their soul. Many who returned reported seeing the glimmer of gold in the night, and a young man with a branch of flowers in his pale hair. The people would grow pale and cross themselves, backing away and hiding in fear. 

He smirked whenever He heard these rumors. All the same, He rarely left His home. He found it was no longer needed. He had become somewhat of a local deity, and people had begun leaving ‘offerings’ to keep him happy. He laughed whenever He would spy someone leaving something they thought would make Him happy. They left everything from food to small animals tied to his house. He would smile and come to the window, enjoying the reaction He would receive. Behind him a subtle presence would make its amusement known as the person scurried away. He would touch the circlet and then move His fingers to the flowers in His hair.

Every so often He would stop a moment and think back to that night. He would stop and think on why that girl would spend her last moments attempting to please him. Maybe she was like the rest of the people in thinking he was a deity that needed appeased. Maybe it was something else. The reasoning evaded him and He spent many nights in thought. 

Once during these thoughts He was pulled away by a very tall man tromping through a clearing guiding along a small child. 

He smiled, He had never seen these people before and they did not belong to the surrounding area. He appeared before them and the man stiffened, but the child did not. She walked right up to him and held up a small wildflower. He took it with a small smile and a quiet ‘thank you’ before moving out of their way.

Though, this little girl and her imposing guardian were interesting. He was intrigued as to why this little blind girl (her eyes were just as clouded as his one own) would offer him a gift for no reason…just like the other girl. He tucked the wildflower in with the other flowers before moving His fingers to the circlet. He smirked and called his demon companion. This one little girl demanded more observation. His companion agreed and soon they were gone, following the other unlikely pair.

Later, as the people went to leave offerings to Him they discovered a ramshackle ruin in what was once His house. They were immensely confused, frightened, and elated. He was gone! He never did return to that particular patch of woods, but people never did forget. Even today they never strayed far into what are still His lands, and if they did they did not stay long. He was amused of course, when He was not chasing after the ever interesting Amen and her tall, imposing companion. 

Throughout the entire time He followed them He only interacted with them three times. The first was an accident, the second a war, and the third a death of the highest impact. Those stories, however, are best told in daylight. For now let's return home; the forest is no place to be at night.


End file.
